


a wound between places

by Nori



Series: DeanandCas Bingo [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Destiny the Game AU, Established Relationship, Horror, Horror Elements, I've always got to write at least one (1) destiny au for all my fandoms tbh, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 08:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nori/pseuds/Nori
Summary: It’s bring your idiot BF to work day. Things could have gone better.“Ignore the Abyssal Knight,” Cas shouts, disappearing into the darkness on the other side of the island. “It belongs to this place, and this place to it.”“Less cryptic please,” Dean shouts.





	a wound between places

**Author's Note:**

> I promise next time I’ll let Dean be the bad ass. If you Destiny, please forgive me for all the liberties I took with this. If you don’t Destiny, please pretend this all makes perfect sense. Unbeta’d. I gave it a couple proofreads, but please let me know if you see anything that needs correcting.

Their footsteps echo in the underground chamber, the elegant granite promenade completely at odds with the rough hewn walls and grassy ledges around them. Dean trots at Cas’ heels, new to the Dreaming City and a little overwhelmed by the grand if misplaced architecture, the brush of magic in the air, and the monsters who materialize from the mists. They step down off the walkway, into a basin lined with quicksilver water, and through a small field of glowing, musical purple flowers. Beside a massive boulder protruding from the ground like the great ridged spine of a long dead beast, Cas disappears, reappearing with a pop a good 30 feet up the rock. 

“Blinking is cheating,” Dean grumbles, hopping into the air. At the crest of his jump, Dean jumps again and, as though his foot had touched solid ground, he rockets up through the air. He lands on the rock with a grunt, scrabbling for purchase on the steep edge. 

“You’re as capable of blinking as I am,” Cas reminds him from the highest point of the boulder. With a neat little bounce, Cas is surrounded by a swirl of silvery white light that buoys him up as he floats to a tiny island of land straining away from the rock wall. When he lands, he runs his hands down over his long robes to straighten them and turns to watch Dean’s much less refined approach to scaling the rock. 

Dean leaps across the open space between the boulder and Cas’ ledge, wrapping an arm around Cas’ solid waist to steady himself upon landing. Cas raises an eyebrow at him, teasingly judgmental, so Dean grins back, waggling his eyebrows.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he quips, pulling Cas flush against him. The light armor on their chests clacks together, scraping like nails on a chalkboard, but it’s hardly enough to deter Dean. 

“Yes, what a surprise,” Cas drones, rolling his eyes. “It’s almost as if I gave your Ghost coordinates to this exact location.”

Dean laughs brightly. “C’mon you grump. Don’t be like that.” He curls his fingers under Cas’ jaw, coaxing him into a kiss. It’s only a brief, affectionate little thing, but it fills Dean up with a bubbly airiness that not even the prism brightness of the power in his chest can match. 

“While I appreciate your obvious delight, Dean,” Cas says as they separate, expression taut with unease, “I hardly think a venture into the Ascendant plane is a time for jokes.” 

“Alright, alright,” Dean laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. He makes a big show of inching back on the narrow ledge, putting space between them. “So? How do we jump between planes, big guy? A little void magic?”

“Queensfoil tincture,” Cas replies blandly, pulling two tall, thin bottles from his belt and holding one out to Dean. The liquid in the glass is oily black, undulating with an off putting green-white light. Dean grimaces. 

“Don’t tell me we have to drink this.”

Cas looks up at him, deadly serious. “Okay, I won’t tell you.” He pops the top off his bottle and downs it like a champ. Dean watches, a little awed and very queasy, as the color drains from Cas’ hair and skin and eyes, down through his robes to the tips of his gloves and toes of his sturdy boots. When he’s nothing more than a solid shadow standing before Dean, the disturbing green-white light begins to ripple and flow over his smooth, black surface. 

“This is worse than the Taken armor fad,” Dean complains, remembering the twitchy, near gaseous form some of their contemporaries had been fond of donning in the not so distant past. 

“Hurry up, Dean,” Cas reprimands. “The tincture only grants us Ascendance for a brief time. We need to be in and out of the Ascendant plane before our time is up.”

“Alright, fine,” Dean groans, giving the bottle in his hand a disgusted look. “Bottoms up, I guess,” he sighs, before ripping out the stopper and gulping it down. He can feel it starting to take effect immediately, the liquid slithering down his throat like a living thing and stretching it’s noxious fingers into every nook and cranny of his very existence. 

He looks down at his gloved hands, watching the shadow overtake his colors, that ever roiling radiance sickly over his palms. Suddenly there’s a snap between his ears, and a roaring wind howling past his ear. He turns his head to see a black hole, no more than four feet around, floating in the air beside them, rimmed with a dim, green-white glow. 

“Once you’re Ascendant,” Cas informs him, scholarly and a little proud, “the line between our plane and theirs becomes much thinner.”

“Oh great,” Dean snarks. “Just wonderful.”

“It’s better to know how the Hive are always a step ahead of us then to always struggle to keep up with their assaults,” Cas offers. He holds out one hand expectantly, and with a flash of shimmery white light, his helmet appears, hooked off his fingers. “We have enough problems, without allowing the Hive to grow even more powerful.”

Dean summons his own helmet and pulls it on with a resigned sigh, locking it into place. While Dean checks his heavy pistol, Cas readies his assault rifle. “So we doin’ this or what?”

The smooth faced helmet turns, Cas regarding him from behind the visor. “I don’t know what we’re stepping into, Dean. Be ready for anything.”

With that stirring pep talk, Cas jumps through the portal and Dean follows close on his heels. 

He stumbles to a landing in a field of white flowers, glowing softly in an otherwise completely dark world. Cas is picking his way cautiously toward a large, dead tree reaching out of the ground, but beyond that is only shadow and gloom. A massive black orb hovers in the sky, a dark shadow on a dark background. A blight, a black hole which drains away light and life in equal measure. 

With a shudder, Dean turns slowly to take in the little island they’ve found themselves on. Thin thrusts of land curve away from the island, like fingers from a hand. Looking down over the edge is dizzying, an endless abyss of shadow. Far in the distance, lurking like nightmares, Dean can see the silhouette of other large land masses floating unnaturally, slowly rotating. 

This is the Ascendant plane. Broken pieces of the familiar trapped forever in a timeless, lightless nothing. It makes Dean’s never dying heart crawl into his throat. 

“Dean!” He spins, readying his gun, but Cas is merely beckoning him closer. Dean obeys, trotting over the uneven ground. The gentle glimmer of the flowers gives way to a circle of smooth white stone. The stone dips down, as if to hold a pool, but instead of water, a thick black sludge, glistening even without light, stirs within. 

In the center of the black sludge is a little geyser of white light, straining desperately against the smothering darkness. 

“I’ve seen this before,” Cas tells him, voice distant with memory. “We can weaken this pocket of the Ascendant plane if we overcharge the light there.”

“Okay,” Dean says slowly. “And how do we do that?”

“We draw the Hive here,” Cas answers, shrugging one shoulder. “If enough of them come to protect this well of darkness, they’ll generate a charge. You and I can harness that charge, and deposit it here.”

“Right,” Dean nods, taking a steadying breath. “Just you, me, and a million Hive playing tag on an island in the middle of fucking space. No big deal.”

“And the time we have to do it is limited,” Cas says, his voice filled with that particular brand of wild acceptance Dean’s come to recognize from all of Cas’ most suicidal plans. 

“All this for me?” Dean teases, even though the fear and adrenaline are already hitting him, making him twitchy and light headed. 

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Cas snorts. He steps cautiously forward into the sludge, each step slipping a couple inches before he finds a solid base to stand on. 

“How romantic,” Dean drawls. Cas doesn’t reply, too focused on making his way to the little stream of light that refuses to give into the dark. Dean sort of wishes he’d keep the banter going. Without that distraction, Dean’s mind wanders inevitably to the Hive. 

They’re a race of nightmares, in Dean’s humble opinion. Soldiers who believe only in growing ever stronger, devouring entire worlds on their path. Their journey has lasted centuries, the creatures only dying in battle. Time hasn’t been particularly forgiving to them, either. What was once armor is now simply part of their body, helmets and chest plates and pauldrons grown into the flesh. Although, given the skeletal features under their trio of green, glowing eyes, perhaps there’s no flesh left at all. And when the life is stripped from them, they crumble to nothing more than dust. 

“Get ready,” Cas barks, and Dean moves back, on high alert as Cas drives an open palm down toward the black sludge under his feet. A burst of white hot energy blasts from his hand, sending the sludge splattering away. 

Instantly, the area around them is filled with energy, brushing over Dean’s skin like static electricity. The darkness is torn open by the same white-green light of the portal he and Cas had jumped through to get here, and the sound of a million whispered screams joins together into a maelstrom. Portals swell to life all around them, spilling Hive soldier after Hive soldier out onto the island. Dean watches the nearest portal expand until a single, towering Knight steps through. The gleam of its eyes cuts through the dark, zeroing in on Dean unerringly. It raises a heavy greataxe, taking a lumbering step forward. It’s malicious intent nearly bowls Dean over. 

“Ignore the Abyssal Knight,” Cas shouts, disappearing into the darkness on the other side of the island. “It belongs to this place, and this place to it.”

“Less cryptic please,” Dean shouts. He hears Cas’ gun snarling as bullets tear through their enemies, and then Dean takes off running himself. The Knight’s thundering march keeps it close on Dean’s heels, hounding him as he races breakneck through the gloom. 

“We can’t kill it here,” Cas snaps, the familiar fizzle of their helmet radios softening the harshness of his tone. 

“Awesome,” Dean snipes back, sarcastic with dread. He slows just enough to level his pistol at a swarm of small, entirely manageable Hive. They burst into dust one by one, but the whistling swing of a greataxe at the back of his head keeps him from celebrating his excellent marksmanship. 

Dean continues to lead the vicious Knight in a circle around the main body of the island, cursing every time the dark gives way to an endless fall. Running full tilt through the dark, never knowing where the ground ends and a great big nothing begins is only made more stressful by the Knight’s dogged determination to catch him. On the plus side, Dean spots Cas rushing through the shadows several times, harnessed electric charge flickering in his hand. It’s a small comfort, but at least Dean knows that one of them is making progress on destroying this place. 

By the time Cas calls out to him again, Dean feels as if he could run the entire perimeter of this island with his eyes closed, he’s made so many laps. The damn Knight hasn’t figured out that it can’t catch Dean by following him in circles, which Dean isn’t going to complain about. At least with the thing trailing behind him, he doesn’t have to worry about it sneaking up on him in the dark. 

“This should be enough to overcharge it,” Cas tells him, voice clipped. The big idiot has been too busy chasing Dean to bother Cas, but Dean can see the eerie green smear of eyes in the distance and he knows it’s the smaller Hive, harassing Cas at every turn. “When the light bursts, that Knight should be weakened enough for you to kill it.”

“Can’t wait,” Dean calls back, hip sliding over the waist high rock he’s smashed into no less than five times during his game of tag with the Knight. The surge of light, when it comes, is absolutely blinding, and Dean stumbles. He turns fast, banking on the Knight suffering from the glare as well, and fires off several shots in what he thinks is the right direction. 

The hiss of a blade flying through the air is the only warning Dean gets. He dodges back, hoping there’s enough space between the Knight’s axe and the edge of the world for him to get by unscathed, but the head of the axe clips his forearm. Pain snaps up his arm, sending his pistol flying. Dean falls on his ass, skittering backwards until the ground drops out from under his good hand. 

“Cas,” he hollers, ripping his long knife out of its sheath with his good hand. The spots in his vision fade and Dean finds himself face to face with the Knight, leaning down as it watches him. It makes a sinister, triumphant sound and lifts its axe above its head. Dean snarls, rolling up to his feet and driving the knife up into its chest, under what must have once been a breastplate. He gets a few more good stabs in, wondering what the hell is keeping Cas, before the thing gets fed up with him. 

A massive palm closes over his helmet, lifting him off the ground with an almost curious amusement. Dean drops the knife, swinging his good arm over a wrist the size of a tree trunk to take the strain off his neck, feet kicking in the air. The Knight pulls Dean right up to its face, multi-tonal voice rumbling as it speaks at him. 

“Hey, fuck you too,” Dean grunts, trying to ignore the terror picking at his mind. He hopes Cas doesn’t blame himself for Dean getting his ass kicked by this Knight. 

It talks again, lipless mouth moving. The monologue ends with something like a laugh, and then the hand on Dean’s helmet clamps down hard. Dean’s eyes snap wide, as the metal of his helmet shrieks under the pressure. The right side caves in first, digging into Dean’s skull. He feels it when the metal lets go, one jagged edge slicing clean into his head. At first he feels only the heat of blood dripping down the side of his face. The pain comes screaming after. 

Usually death is a nonissue, but Dean doesn’t know if he can be resurrected in here, and the fear jolts him into movement. His good arm slips from over the Knight’s wrist, fingers scrabbling at the clasps at his neck that keep his helmet on. As the helmet continues to crunch down around Dean’s head, getting closer and closer to popping him like a damn grape, he finally gets the latch and drops heavily at the Knight’s feet. He scrambles to his feet, staggering toward the center of the island where he’d last seen Cas. His feet don’t work the way he’s used to them working, sluggish and ungainly. Still, he struggles onward, stomach churning and head on fire. 

Cas is right where Dean expected him to be. He lurches to a stop, eyes wide, blood dripping hot down his skin. Cas is surrounded by Hive, clawing at his armor and yanking at his arms. He lashes out like a wild animal, palm slamming into faces and blasting them to pieces with a burst of white light. He disintegrates a soldier directly in front of him, the thing going down in flames, and then Cas stills, visor turned directly toward Dean. Dean starts forward again, wanting to help but knowing that he won’t be much good with half his head squashed like a rotten tomato. 

The ground trembles and Dean startles forward, away from the Knight casually strolling toward him. Dean doesn’t know how they’re going to get out of this one. The Hive are an obvious problem, but Dean’s pretty sure the tincture they’d taken before coming here must be running out. If they get stuck here, it won’t matter if they manage to kill the monsters or not. 

A sound like rushing wind cuts through Dean’s morbid musings, and suddenly the island is lit orange. Flames erupt from Cas, arching away from his shoulders like a pair of great wings. A molten sword takes shape in his hands and with one fierce slash, all the Hive around him crumble to dust. He leaps into the sky, wings spread wide, and rains fire down on the Knight. Dean stares slack jawed, brain leaking out of his ears. 

The Knight staggers, cringing under the onslaught, but Cas continues. He brings his sword up over his head and descends in a rush, slicing clean through the Knight. The creature falls back, nothing but dust before it even hits the ground. 

“Wow,” Dean slurs, tongue thick and unruly. Cas is in front of him suddenly, shoving him none too kindly backwards. Dean trips, struggling to get his feet to obey Cas’ unspoken order. His vision is spotty, still trying to recover from the brilliant fire of Cas’ wings. 

And probably from having part of his skull caved in. 

He’s falling suddenly, Cas clinging to him. They land with a hard thump, Dean’s vision whiting out entirely. There’s a bright, cool feeling washing through the knot of pain and confusion. Dean blinks, and he’s looking up at Cas’ wide blue eyes and lips pressed thin, bloodless. There are purple flowers singing a twinkling melody in his ears. Dean lifts his right hand, the one the Knight smashed, and curls his fingers. The pain is gone. Fearfully, he brings his hand to his scalp, prepared to feel the pulp left behind by his crushed helmet, but meeting only the smooth, solid curve of his skull and clear, unbroken skin. 

The Dreaming City. They made it home. 

“Dean?” Cas’ voice is hitched with worry. His gloved hands move over Dean’s face; his jaw, his cheeks, back through his hair. 

“You’re such a badass, Cas,” Dean laughs, catching both his wrists to steady him. 

“You– You’re,” Cas stutters, before choking back a shrill sound and pressing down into a desperate kiss. “You’re infuriating,” Cas gasps between kisses. “I thought you were…”

“I’m great,” Dean tells him, genuine. As long as he doesn’t think about the dark island and screech of metal crumpling around his head. “I’m freakin’ awesome.” 

“I’m never bringing you on a mission again,” Cas warns, curling over Dean’s prone form and hiding his face against Dean’s temple. 

“Yeah,” Dean laughs, stroking Cas’ hair. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Kudos and reviews are super appreciated! <3 [Rebloggable version on my tumblr](https://hrimthur.tumblr.com/post/186248675883/a-wound-between-places).


End file.
